Nothing like the Sun
by DailyProphetEditor
Summary: Book 7 fic, HBP-canon but AU to DH. Focus on Snape-McGonagall hate, trust, and friendship issues, later SSMM. Many side characters, Horcrux Hunt, and Battle with Voldemort. Rating for violence and mild adult stuff. Please see A/N and profile for more info
1. Prologue

**Nothing like the Sun**

* * *

_A/N:_

_"Nothing like the Sun" is the __extended and so far never-published __version of "Minerva McGonagall and the Half-Blood Prince"._

_Let me explain._

_I put a lot of work into my stories, and I have two very faithful betas. Each and every chapter goes through several rounds of re-writing and proofreading, so you can imagine that this kind of work approach consumes time. A whole lot of time._

_While working on "Nothing like the Sun" we realized that we would never be able to finish it before the publication of JKR's "Deathly Hallows", and for some reason we wanted to beat that deadline. (Don't ask why. We don't know.) So about half of the story was cruelly cut away, and we decided to publish the much-shortened version under a working title that resembled "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" and would thus be easy to remember._

_Naturally I have come to regret this decision. So here's the real story, the way it was meant to be..._

_If you know "Minerva and Half-Blood Prince", then you know the plot. But it is not just the same story published again._

_This version here is more… __complete__, for lack of a better word. There is more time for proper character development, and we have re-included all those scenes that were cut from the story for brevity's sake. More darkness! More angst! More chapters devoted to my beloved side characters! And hopefully, the writing style has improved a bit ;-)_

_If you're not put off by the fact that this is oh-so-boring-the-same-again, then enjoy reading!_

_This fic is canon compliant to JKR's "Half-Blood Prince", but completely AU to "Deathly Hallows". Some of the Horcruxes are different. The reason why Snape returned to the side of Good and Light and Fluffy Bunnies is a very different one. And, sorry, while I think it is totally cool that JRK's Dumbledore is gay – my Dumbledore is boring and heterosexual._

_Frank_

* * *

Sonnet 130 by William Shakespeare:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;  
Coral is far more red than her lips' red:

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;  
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,  
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight  
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak,--yet well I know  
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw a goddess go,  
My mistress when she walks, treads on the ground;

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare  
As any she belied with false compare.

* * *

_**Prologue**_

_The castle doors closed behind Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Minerva McGonagall glanced at the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw hourglasses which she had just filled with an immense amount of rubies and sapphires. Poor little Harry and his friends clearly deserved some kind of a reward after the brave fight at the Ministry._

_Minerva suppressed a not-very-ladylike grin. She had just returned from St Mungo's to Hogwarts, and within the very first five minutes after her arrival she had won an argument against Severus Snape. This was going to be a good day._

_Minerva allowed herself to lean a little more on her walking stick. She knew perfectly well that she was not 'as good as new' – as she had claimed only a moment ago – but she was darned if she was going to admit that now. Straightening up once more she looked into Snape's face and was surprised to find something like a smile there._

_"You know, Minerva, it is good to have you back here."_

_"Why, just a minute ago, you didn't seem too happy about it."_

_"You really don't know how much I appreciate this? Having one person around who will stand up to me?"_

_"Someone who will best you, you mean. Severus, you are quite arrogant."_

_Minerva smiled, just a tiny little smirk to show him that she was well aware of the irony of her words. Snape walked over to where she stood._

_"I would have offered to carry your luggage, but as you have already used my students for that purpose – may I nevertheless offer to escort you to your rooms?"_

_He actually held out his arm for her to take. It was disturbing how the man sometimes used mockingly good manners for his personal revenge. No, she was certainly not going to be seen led around the castle as though she was his elderly aunt._

_"The gesture is charming, Severus, though I think it might be misunderstood. I am perfectly capable of walking on my own."_

_"Of course."_

_He nodded and turned away._

_"But if you would care to accompany me to my office, I would certainly appreciate it if you had tea with me and could fill me in on the latest events around here."_

_"I shall be delighted," he said dryly, but she saw a little smirk in his eyes._


	2. Bereaved

**Nothing like the Sun**

_**Chapter 1 - Bereaved**_

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was dead.

They had buried him this very morning and had sent the students home only one hour later. Except for the staff members, the ghosts, and a few funeral guests who would stay until the next day, Hogwarts was deserted.

Minerva McGonagall was standing at her open bedroom window and stared into the darkness outside. It had been an awful day. All of the past few days had been nothing short of horrible.

Minerva shuddered even though it was a warm and pleasant summer evening. She could still not quite grasp the idea that her old friend and mentor should be gone, killed just like that. Albus had been... the one certainty she had always been able to rely on. For all her life, he had simply been _there_, strong, powerful, and seemingly invincible. Now he was gone, and he had left behind nothing but doubts and despair.

They did not even know for certain why he and Harry Potter had left Hogwarts on that fateful evening, although Minerva suspected that they had attempted to retrieve a certain object. Ever since Harry had defeated the memory which had emerged out of Tom Riddle's old diary, Minerva had considered the possibility that Lord Voldemort might have created Horcruxes. After all, how else could he have come back after his alleged death so many years ago?

But Minerva did not _know_, and she would not concern herself with that matter now. Other, far more pressing thoughts were on her mind tonight. This morning, Minister Scrimgeour had made her the new Headmistress of Hogwarts - under the one condition that she would increase the security of the castle. If Hogwarts was indeed to re-open, she would have to be able to guarantee that never, ever a Death Eater could again set foot on Hogwarts grounds.

Minerva had accepted. This charming old castle was her stronghold now, and for the sake of the students Minerva intended to make it an unconquerable fortress. Also, the two people most dangerous to Voldemort were away. Dumbledore was... gone, and Harry had informed Minerva that he would not return for the next school year. Under these conditions, the new Headmistress thought it possible to guarantee that neither Draco Malfoy nor any other Death Eater would enter Hogwarts ever again.

Unfortunately, there was another duty Minerva knew she would have to accept, and this duty was one she did not want to take on. Now that Albus Dumbledore was dead, the Order of the Phoenix was in need of a new leader.

Nobody would vote for Mad-Eye Moody, and Minerva felt positive that Remus Lupin would not be willing to take the lead. Her personal choice of a new leader was Arthur Weasley, but she did not think that Molly would let him do it. Kingsley Shacklebolt was simply not prominent enough within the Order, and all of the others were either too young or too old or too inexperienced.

The new Head of the Order would _have_ to be Minerva herself, and not because she was ideal for the post, but because she was the only choice they had. It was not an encouraging thought; not at all. For the first time in her life, Minerva truly felt old. She had never shied away from responsibility, but now she dreaded the things to come.

With slow and tired movements, Minerva closed the window and the curtains. She decided to go to bed and started to change her clothes.

This evening was the first time ever since Dumbledore's death that Minerva had enough time for herself to calm down, and allow her thoughts to wander. Initially, there had been too much on her mind. She had had to calm the students, to organise their safe return home, and to arrange the funeral. Taken up by the events, she had not had a single moment to herself. Only now she found the time to mourn, and also to finally follow that one awful, nagging thought that had subconsciously been bothering her:

Minerva felt guilty for Albus Dumbledore's death. She had been the one who had called Snape's attention to Dumbledore. She had directed the murderer to her now-dead best friend.

Rationally thinking, Minerva knew full well that there was no point in feeling accountable for the result of the battle at Hogwarts. She had had every reason to trust Severus Snape. _Dumbledore_ had trusted him. She had never questioned his motives for believing that Snape was on their side, but had simply accepted the fact.

If truth be told, she had somewhat liked Snape. Granted, as long as she could remember back, he had never been a pleasant person to have around. But he was an interesting person. Minerva remembered the excellent student, intrigued by the Dark Arts and drawn to practicing them in secret. Although Minerva had never approved of his fascination with dark magic, only very few of her students had impressed her as much as Snape had done back in those days.

Even as a schoolboy, he had shown such potential that Minerva had at times almost considered him an equal. And she had not been alone with that assessment - Horace Slughorn had been more than happy to include this low-class student in his famous 'Slug Club'.

When Snape had joined the Death Eaters after leaving school, it had broken her heart. She had expected him to make more intelligent choices in life. Later then, after he had returned to their side, it had taken years before she had forgiven his mistakes, but she had also felt so very proud of his decision to turn away from Lord Voldemort. And although he was a horrible teacher and even less qualified as a colleague, she had enjoyed having him around.

Snape had never socialised with the other staff members, but after some years as a Professor, he had taken up the habit of accompanying Minerva on her long walks in the Hogwarts grounds. Once in a while they had played chess, which had been quite a challenge - just like their constant arguments. Snape was _different_ from other people, that was what Minerva had liked about him.

How very wrong she had been to consider him an unusual friend! She had known him to be a Death Eater once. Minerva would never forgive herself for trusting him nevertheless.

Minerva was fatigued to the point of exhaustion, but when she curled up in bed she knew immediately that she would not be able to sleep. With a deep sigh, she got up again. As a victim of insomnia, she might as well take to patrolling the school corridors again, at least that gave her something to do. Minerva wrapped her old tartan dressing gown tightly around her, took her wand, and set off.

The castle was eerily quiet. Even the pictures were either asleep or unwilling to talk. Minerva's bare feet only made the faintest sound on stone floor. Constantly plagued by the same thoughts, she wandered through the hallways.

Even after the funeral in the morning, everyone had avoided speaking of Snape. Talking about the murderer meant accepting the fact that they had been wrong in their judgement, worse still, that _Albus Dumbledore_ had been wrong in his judgement. To most of them, that was the worst part of it. Dumbledore had been wrong. He, the greatest of them all, had made a mistake that had ultimately cost his life.

It felt like heresy, but now Minerva was forced to conclude that Albus could also have been wrong concerning his other assumptions. All his conclusions about Voldemort's plans, and all the help and advice for young Harry that they had planned based on Albus's ideas... it could be erroneous. The first task of the Order of the Phoenix would be to re-evaluate what they _truly_ knew about the man who called himself Lord Voldemort.

Minerva shuddered, certainly not feeling up to that task. Although she was not in a mood to talk, she was almost relieved when she met Remus Lupin on the second floor. He had volunteered to patrol the corridors for a few hours, just in case.

"Shall I cover for you, Remus?" Minerva asked. "I cannot sleep tonight."

"No, Minerva, but thank you for offering. Do go back to bed, you look terribly tired."

There was a moment of silence, but it was a pleasant silence. Minerva smiled sadly while she watched the young man who had once been her student. Remus Lupin had become a close friend. Nowadays, she hardly ever thought of him as the child he had once been, but only saw the man she liked - just like it had been with James and Lily Potter, even with Sirius Black, and of course with Snape.

_Severus Snape_. Minerva valiantly shook her head. The memory of his face when she had last seen him, running up to the Astronomy Tower... it was going to haunt her for the rest of her life.

"You know, Remus…" Minerva hesitated for a moment before she continued in a warm voice, "I just wondered if you didn't want to spend the night in nicer company than that of knight statues and snoring pictures. I meant what I said. Dumbledore would want you to enjoy being loved by a wonderful woman."

Remus smiled. He knew how very unusual it was for Minerva to even mention the topic of feelings.

"I really appreciated that you said that," he replied thoughtfully. "It made things easier, somehow. After all, it's not that I haven't been in love with Tonks for a long time... But she is in London tonight. I sent her home after the ceremony. She needs to be well-rested when she shows up for work tomorrow."

Minerva nodded. "That reminds me, I think London is no longer safe for us – I mean, Grimmauld Place isn't safe any more. We will need to decide on a new Headquarter. I think Poppy wants to keep Bill in the hospital wing for another night, but then he should be free to go. We ought to hold our next meeting as soon as can be arranged."

"I shall be there when you call us together."

Minerva tensed when she realised that Remus was already acting as though she was the official new Head of the Order. Remus sensed her discomfort.

"We will make this as easy for you as possible. We know how close you and Dumbledore were. Having to replace him must be an ordeal for you," he added calmly.

He paused another moment, pondering if he dared to ask what was on his mind.

"Minerva, as we were speaking of love a minute ago… can I ask you a personal question?"

"Never. We never were..." Minerva whispered in a very small voice before Remus could continue.

"I'm sorry," he immediately apologised. "That was too private, I shouldn't have asked – especially at a time like this."

"No, it's alright."

Minerva straightened up and looked him in the face.

"It's quite alright, really. People have always wondered. Albus and I were friends, closest friends. We never were lovers."

Both of them relaxed, sensing that a moment of uncertain tension had passed. Minerva smiled bravely; finding that it did her surprisingly good to be challenged on the subject of her feelings for the deceased. She looked Remus levelly in the eyes, and the young man returned the smile.

"I admit being surprised," he went on. "Everybody always assumed you two had to be closer that it appeared. It was accepted that you would keep this very private, but there had to be some kind of close relationship – so everyone thought."

"There was a time when I wished for Albus to love me."

Again, Minerva was whispering. She did not know why she told Lupin all these things, only... the desire to confide in a friend was overpowering in this night of mourning.

"Do you realise that when I came here as a student, he was older than I am now?" she explained helplessly. "Oh, I'll confess I really fancied him when I was Head Girl, but that was just an immature crush. Later, when we met again, I truly wished for him to fall in love with me. But it could never have worked out – the age difference for one thing, then us working together here, all the travelling and working for the Ministry he did. Not to mention the war against You-Know-Who fifteen years ago."

Lupin nodded pensively. "That would have caused difficulties in a relationship."

"Definitely. Also, I came to realise Albus was married to this school and by that time I loved teaching just as much as he did."

Minerva paused for a moment, lost in thought.

"There was a time some years ago when I thought he might have changed his mind, but the more I thought about it the less likely it seemed," she continued to explain. "Both of us have had short relationships with other people. No, Remus – a teacher and his former student can become trusted friends, just as you and I are. But a teacher and his former student should _never _become an item, I firmly believe that now."

When she called him a trusted friend, Remus bowed his head a little. He could not think of an appropriate answer, so they fell into a friendly silence once more. After a few minutes, he took Minerva's hand and squeezed it gently.

"Do go to bed, Minerva. You do need to rest, and I think now you will probably be able to sleep."

Feeling strangely relieved, Minerva nodded obediently. "Good night, Remus. And… thank you."

She turned around and walked away before he could reply. When she walked back to her office and bedroom close to Gryffindor Tower, Minerva felt almost as though she was in a daze.

Under different circumstances, she would never have spoken about her complicated relationship to Albus Dumbledore. Yet, she did not feel too bad about it now. Minerva had obviously needed to talk to _someone_, and if one had to confide in another being, Remus Lupin definitely was a good choice.

Resolving to think about the matter tomorrow, Minerva entered her bedroom and locked the door behind her. She lit the small candle on her bedside table by merely touching it with her fingertips, smiling sadly while she did so. Many, many years ago, Albus had taught her how to light a small flame without employing her wand. The flame flickered in the night breeze coming from the window, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

Minerva looked up with a start. She _knew_ that she had closed the window before her attempt to go to bed. Now it was slightly ajar, and the curtains were moving in the night air.

And there was a tall figure standing in the dark end of the room.

"Expelliarmus!"

It took Minerva less than a second to raise her wand and disarm the man. Strangely enough, his wand came flying towards her from her own table. He had not carried it on himself.

Before she could say anything, he slowly stepped out of the darkness and into the faint circle of light formed by her candle. Snape stood motionless, making no attempt to regain his wand or attack her in any other way.


	3. Tale of the Snake

**Nothing like the Sun**

_**Chapter 2 – Tale of the Snake **_

* * *

Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him?  
Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him?

_- excerpt from " Snake" by D.H. Lawrence_

* * *

Too surprised to react right away, Minerva stared at Snape's pale face. There was something odd about the way he was standing there – quiet, waiting, almost as though the last couple of days had never taken place and this was just a chance meeting of two old friends.

Snape was on his guard, yet he did not appear hostile. The light was too dim to tell if he was carrying another wand or any other kind of weapon, but he definitely made no attempt to come closer. His whole demeneaour was so oddly subdued that Minerva had to actively remind herself that she ought to stun him at once.

She raised her wand.

"Don't. Please. I swear I will not attack you."

Snape's voice was surprisingly soft and friendly.

There even was a trace of… fear. He slowly raised his hands a few inches; seemingly trying to demonstrate that he was unarmed. Otherwise he did not move.

Minerva hesitated for a fraction of a second.

Then she raised her wand for a second time, and this time even more furious. Once more, Snape spoke up in that uncharacteristically gentle voice.

"I have used a Locking Charm on the door – it will not unlock for six hours unless I command it to," he explained, almost apologetically. "So unless you wish to climb out of a window seven storeys above the ground, you are trapped here with me. And I have silenced the premises. No one outside can hear what is going on in here. You can stun me, but I may recover before you are able to escape from this room."

Minerva narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out how she could escape this imprisonment in her own rooms. Snape gave her an odd and pleading look.

"Naturally I am aware that there are other ways for you to avert any danger coming from me," he continued in a hurried voice. "You could petrify me – or kill me. And I swear I will not defend myself. Please, I beg you to just let me speak to you."

"What, are you going to tell me that you didn't murder Dumbledore?" Minerva snarled.

She still held her wand raised up, ready to attack in an instant – but she also realised that Snape had won the first round. She had neither attacked him, nor had she tried to alert anyone else. At least it seemed as though he was not going to kill her right off.

"No. I must confess that I did murder him."

Minerva glared at him with as much contempt as she could muster. He looked down, unable to hold her disdainful stare.

"I had no choice," he added, in an uncertain and almost embarrassed voice. "I was forced to."

"Forced to?" Minerva repeated derisively. "What do I care? Did you think I would forgive you just because You-Know-Who forced you to do it?"

Snape stared on the floor, apparently unable or unwilling to reply.

"Did you think _anyone_ would forgive you for murdering Albus Dumbledore?" Minerva continued icily. "If you had ever truly been on our side, you would rather have died than let anyone force you to kill Albus."

Minerva's fear had evaporated, and now she felt nothing but scorn and hatred. It did her strangely good to see the effect of her words. With grim satisfaction, she noticed that Snape apparently had no answer to her accusations.

When he finally raised his face, she had the impression that his eyes were bloodshot and swollen. The bastard was seized with remorse, but Minerva could not find it in her heart to feel any trace of sympathy.

"Don't you think I know that?" he said in a strained voice. "I was ready to give my life to save Dumbledore – and Draco Malfoy's, too. But I had no choice."

"What does Draco Malfoy's life have to do with that? I am afraid I do not believe a single word you say."

"It was too much to hope for."

To Minerva's surprise, he sounded utterly defeated. This was not any more the man she had known, and who would never have given up. Snape looked her in the eyes.

"Go ahead and stun me, call help, do whatever you want. I promise I will come quietly."

This had to be a trap.

Minerva tried to judge Snape's expression, but he simply looked downed and tired. When she tried her Legilimency abilities, she found that Snape's mind was an open book. He made no attempt to shield his thoughts – but again, Minerva suspected that he was trying to hoodwink her.

After all, if _Albus_ had been fooled by Snape, how could Minerva find out whether he was lying? Her Legilimency skills were not a quarter as good. There was no way to tell why he had come to see her.

"You promise not to resist your arrest?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Minerva could not help but ask. "Just when did you decide to give up? – This is not at all like you."

She bit her lip after that observation, knowing that she ought to refrain from such personal comments.

"Right now," Snape answered jadedly "And because you do not believe me."

"Because I do not believe you? Of course I don't! You mean if I had believed this cock-and-bull story about you not really wanting to murder Dumbledore, you would have left and continued to spy on You-Know-Who for us?"

"Yes."

"You do certainly not make sense. How on earth could you expect me to believe you? Did you think us all _that _stupid, that we would welcome you home in the Order after what you've done?"

"It's not the Order I care about. I only wanted you to believe me."

"I am afraid you will have to explain that more clearly."

Minerva had spoken the words before thinking.

Now she drew in a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Something strange was going on here. Minerva could hardly believe it that she was just having a nice little chat with Albus's murderer.

She had just agreed to hear him out because… simply because he was not displaying his usually arrogant Slytherin manners, but _acted_ weary and worn-out like a man who felt the pangs of remorse.

Merlin, she was growing old and senile.

"Thank you, Minerva," Snape breathed with obvious relief.

Minerva flinched when he called her by her forename.

Snape was clearly trying to lull her into a false sense of security. They were not anywhere near being friends, not any more. He no more had the right to address her as though they still were colleagues and members of the same Order.

Snape apparently sensed that he had made a mistake, because he hesitated for another moment. Then he drew in a deep breath, steadying himself.

"The Headmaster himself told me to end his life."

"He never would have!" Minerva objected angrily.

Yet, she had to admit that her protest was not entirely correct. The question was worth thinking about. Would Dumbledore ever have said such a thing? It seemed unlikely, as he had not wanted to die. But on the other hand, Albus had not feared death. It depended entirely on the circumstances.

"Last year, Narcissa Malfoy told me the Dark Lord had given her son a certain task she was sure the boy would not be able to perform," Snape continued to explain.

Minerva nodded hesitantly. Draco had acted peculiarly all year long, obviously unable to cope with the stress he was under.

"To find out about this task," Snape went on, "I pretended to know about it all. Narcissa asked me to help her son, and I promised to do so if possible."

Snape interrupted himself and hesitated, as though he did not like what he had to recall.

"Unfortunately, Bellatrix Lestrange was also present… and an 'if possible' promise does not do with her. I was forced to make the Unbreakable Vow that I would help Draco complete his task and, should he fail, carry it out myself."

Minerva watched him closely. She had the impression that he was speaking the truth, but… she also knew this man to be a born liar and an excellent actor. She could not allow herself to be lulled in by his tale.

"I informed the Headmaster immediately. He told me I had done the right thing. After all, what harm could there be in helping Draco? We assumed he had been made a spy on Potter, or that he possibly had the task of finding out what students could be persuaded to become followers of the Dark Lord. Some minor task that would make Draco feel important and cement his loyalty to the Dark Lord, we thought…"

Again, Minerva nodded and signalled agreement. The conclusion did make sense. Snape curled his lips in a joyless and twisted smile.

"Draco Malfoy's task was to murder the Headmaster," he said bitterly. "We only found out when Draco returned to Hogwarts. But then it was too late already."

"Draco Malfoy?" Minerva asked incredulously. "You-Know-Who ordered a _boy_ to murder Albus?"

"He is not exactly know to be a nice person, is he?" Snape scoffed. "The Dark Lord never expected Draco to succeed, but he wanted him to fail as further punishment for Lucius. – The Headmaster was not worried much. He was certain that Malfoy would never be able to harm him."

Minerva felt a lump in her throat. No, under normal circumstances a sixteen-year-old boy could never have dreamed of harming Albus Dumbledore. But there on the Astronomy Tower, Albus had already been weak, and he had been distracted by Harry… and Draco Malfoy had been able to disarm him.

"As far as we knew," Snape continued, "there was no time limit for Malfoy's task. The Headmaster assumed correctly that Draco would refuse my help. As long as the boy kept on scheming how to kill the Headmaster, and I kept offering my assistance – both of us were safe."

Minerva actually felt sorry for Draco Malfoy. The poor boy had been corrupted by his fascination with the Dark Arts, partly due to his upbringing as a Death Eater's son. But with Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban, and Narcissa in Voldemort's hands… Draco had undoubtedly realised that this was not the dark glamour he had signed up for.

But Snape… Minerva looked in his cold eyes. She still could not find it in her heart to feel compassion for him – even if that whole story was true. Draco had been nothing but a foolish child. Snape had known full well what his Unbreakable Vow had meant.

"Of course, this could not have gone on forever," Snape continued callously. "The Headmaster anticipated that there would possibly be a situation in that Draco would be forced to act by other Death Eaters – and unable to execute his task. He made me swear not to break my vow then."

"If you had broken your vow, you would have died," Minerva stated.

Snape nodded. "Instantly."

"Most likely, young Malfoy would also have been killed by his – _your!_ – fellow Death Eaters," Minerva reasoned. "But think, Snape, _Dumbledore _would be alive! I know it sounds cruel saying that, but there was a time when I though you would be willing to die for the man who trusted you so much."

"You would rather see me dead than Dumbledore."

There was not a trace of emotion in Snape's voice now. His face was mask-like; only his black eyes shone with a strange light that made Minerva uneasy.

"That is quite understandable," he said impassively. "Anyone would choose Albus Dumbledore over a former Death Eater."

"Anyone but Dumbledore himself…"

Minerva heard the words, but it took her a few seconds to fully realise that _she_ had spoken them.

By now she felt utterly confused. The whole tale did make sense in a twisted and awful way. Albus would have wanted Snape to survive – not only because Snape was their useful spy, but because he had cared for the young man.

And if Snape had apparently killed Dumbledore single-handed – what better 'proof' was there for his 'loyalty' to Lord Voldemort? Voldemort must have felt triumphant after the death of his one serious adversary. Maybe he had even felt generous enough to let the Malfoy boy live – which was yet another development Albus would have wanted.

"Snape – Severus," she muttered, realising too late that she had called him by his forename again, "Although I hate to admit it, that story makes some sense. _Some_…"

She paused, uncertain what to think of the matter. In a game of chess, she would have sacrificed an important piece under similar circumstances. But this was not a game. They were talking about real life, and the very real death of Minerva's best friend.

"_If_ you told me the truth," she said miserably, "yes, he would have wanted to die at your hands. But you still did not have to do it! I know it seems a harsh thing to say, but had I been in your place, I hope I would have chosen to sacrifice my life for Albus's."

"I know," Snape replied tonelessly. "I _know_. Minerva, I would have done the same. I was planning to disobey his order. Actually we had more than one argument about that matter – that great oaf Hagrid might have heard part of one, go ask him."

"Well, then why didn't you? Disobey, I mean?"

"Because he was dying already. The moment I entered the roof he opened his mind to me so I could see glimpses of what they had been through. The Headmaster had drunk some cursed liquid, and he would have died in a matter of minutes."

"So you're saying ..."

"I could have defended him, but he would have died anyway. And… I would have died as well, because of my vow to take over Draco's task. And Draco – they would either have killed him, or left him there to be taken to Azkaban."

Snape's voice grew quieter, as though he was lost in his recollections of that night. Minerva bit her lip. She did not want to think about what he had done next.

"Minerva," he said in an oddly unsteady voice. "He was _pleading_. He begged me to go through with it. I admit that killing the Headmaster was the only way to survive myself, but… he knew that death was coming for him. And there is one advantage – finally, everyone on the Dark Lord's side believes me. You still have your spy, if you want him."

Minerva slowly sank into her armchair. She had to fight back tears as she imagined Albus Dumbledore vehemently begging for his death. The very idea was appalling. Albus had not deserved such a disgraceful death.

Snape remained a few feet away from Minerva, standing dead still. For several minutes, neither of them spoke. It was a loud and uncomfortable silence.

Finally, Minerva stood up again and looked Snape straight into the eyes.

"Come into the light", she commanded, "Come here and open your mind for me."

Snape obeyed. He came closer until their faces were only inches apart.

"Legilimens…" Minerva whispered decidedly.

This time, she searched his mind thoroughly, desperately trying to detect any barriers that he might have created. But there was not one sign of deceitfulness. His memories of the scene on the Astronomy Tower showed exactly what he had described.

Minerva searched further, now randomly looking for other memories connected with Albus. It was an exhausting task, although Snape did apparently not employ Occlumency. Several times, she came very close to personal memories that then escaped her again. She sensed that those were recollections Snape did not want her to see – not because he wanted to delude her, but because they were too private.

But she had never been much good at Legilimency. Even if she detected no signs of lies in his mind, that did not mean a thing. This man had fooled Albus Dumbledore, or Lord Voldemort, or both.

When she broke off, she felt completely worn out, and Snape looked equally exhausted.

"I can detect no dishonesty in your mind. But we both know how limited my skills in that field are. There is no proof you are not lying to me."

"I am afraid so."

"So what do you expect me to do now? Even if I believed you, how could I convince the others? Dumbledore never told us why he trusted you. We only believed you to be on our side because we trusted him."

"I know," Snape said quietly, and again Minerva thought she detected a trace of bitter sadness in his voice.

"Even if I believed you – and I am not sure I do! – I do not think anyone else would. You have never been liked within the Order. Many have never really trusted you – young Harry especially, and he's the eye-witness to what you did. I do not have the same influence Dumbledore had. Even if I spoke up for you, I don't think you would be allowed to remain a member of the Order and to continue your work as our spy."

"Yes," Snape said slowly. "Yes, I believe you are right. After I had had some time to think about all these matters, I had decided that it was best to never contact the Order again. I was planning to work on my own, to sabotage the Dark Lord's plans without anyone knowing it."

"Then why did you come to see me? How were you able to break into Hogwarts anyway?"

"I swear I used a way no Death Eater could use. Hogwarts is safe."

Minerva raised one of her eyebrows. She did not like the way he avoided her questions. Snape returned her stare and did apparently understand her irritation.

"I came to Hogwarts to re-gain some of my possessions. The Dark Lord allowed me to come back for my belongings because I own some alchemy instruments useful to any wizard."

Snape pointed to a trunk in the dark corner of the room where he had stood earlier.

"I came to see you only after - I overheard your conversation with Lupin. I have to admit that it was a spur-of-the-moment decision."

Minerva gasped in shock.

She liked Snape – correction, she _had _liked Snape before he had killed her best friend – but she was definitely not ready to share her feelings with him. Even with a close friend like Remus Lupin, this little heart-to-heart had been nothing but an uncontrolled outburst of emotions.

This was too private. Minerva would never have allowed Snape to learn that much about her feelings, not even before he had murdered Dumbledore.

"I see," she hissed furiously. "Oh, that was some smart thinking, I have to give that to you. – Of course, I was so miserable and foolishly emotional that I must have appeared easy prey for your oh-so-touching story!"

Minerva narrowed her eyes and positively enjoyed the shocked expression on Snape's face. For one second, she felt the childish impulse to attack him with her bare hands. Minerva hated being manipulated.

"That was a mistake, Snape," she snarled. "It's disgusting; the very idea that you had almost convinced me… that I almost believed you beautiful version of the story!"

She was shaking with wrath now. One last time Minerva raised her wand, and this time her mind was set. She would not only stun that man, she also wanted to hurt him as much as possible.

Unfortunately her furious trembling slowed Minerva's movements. Snape reacted promptly. With one quick snatch, he managed to grab both her and his wand and hold them out of her sphere of reach.

Minerva pressed her mouth into a thin line and tried not to show her anger. She had made the one mistake no former Auror should ever make – when one was about to engage in battle, one had to remain calm and controlled. Irate and uncontrolled wand-brandishing only lead to… well, _this_.

She held her head high and attempted to radiate defiance and dignity. Even if he would kill her now because she did not believe his flimsy excuses – she would not back down. Inwardly, Minerva cursed herself for having listened in the first place.

But Snape did not do anything.

"No," he said at length, "I did not eavesdrop on purpose. It was a sheer coincidence that I heard you. You said something about teachers and former students being friends, and…"

Once again he paused for a few seconds; then he continued in a voice that sounded strangely hurt.

"I was about to leave and you would never have known I was at Hogwarts tonight. I know that no one of the Order will ever believe me. Please, Minerva McGonagall, I just could not leave without telling you I did not _want_ to murder him. I am content if you alone know the truth."

Snape trust Minerva's wand back into her right hand and closed her fingers around it.

The touch reminded Minerva of the way Remus had gently squeezed her hand maybe one hour ago. But while Remus's touch had been reassuring, Snape was almost crushing her hand. Staring into her face, he went on in that same urgent tone.

"I could not bear the thought that you believe me to be a traitor. I don't care about the others. It is your trust only that matters to me."

He had pulled her so close that their faces were almost touching, and continued to look into her eyes as if he was hoping to see an answer there. Then, all of a sudden, he let go of her.

"I apologise."

Once more, Snape's face was expressionless like that of a carved stone statue. He turned away towards his trunk. Minerva still stood rooted to the spot. She hated to admit it, but she simply did not know what to make of this situation.

"Snape… Severus… wait," she said hesitantly. "Wait. I don't understand - what do you want from me? What good would it do if I believed you? What do you plan to do now?"

"I am going to leave now. I was a fool to believe you could trust me after murdering Dumbledore. But I do have this strange desire to live, so maybe I will try to get away instead of giving myself up. There…"

He waved his wand, and Minerva heard the door unlock with a soft clicking noise.

"I understand you will call for backup any second now."

He looked at her in a nearly challenging way, and Minerva almost smiled. This one was the Snape she knew – provocative, never showing an emotion, and completely in control of himself.

Minerva drew in a deep breath.

"Severus, I don't know whether to believe your story. But - but I think it is possible you told me the truth. I will consider it."

There was another odd moment of silence before Snape answered. Clearly, he had not expected her to say that.

He opened the window and directed his trunk outside, all the while never breaking eye contact with her. Once again, Minerva bit her lip angrily, annoyed with herself. _Of course_ she could have escaped out of the window; he had basically _told_ her so.

Just because a window was seven storeys above the ground, that did not mean one could not have a broomstick waiting outside. And this man, this criminal on the run, was about to get away using said broomstick.

"Thank you," Snape said while climbing out of the window. "That is more than I can ask for."

"Severus – will you come back?"

"Only if you want me to."

Did she want him to?

Minerva did not know. There suddenly was a painful lump in her throat, preventing her from speaking. She nodded instead.

A moment later, Snape was gone. Minerva stood dumbfounded for another second or two; _then_ she reacted. Just what had she been thinking, having this nice little chat with a wanted murderer?

She turned around and ran back downstairs to alert Remus Lupin and the other members of the Order.


	4. Head of the Order

_A/N: Please keep in mind that this fic was planned out long before JKR published DH, so the Fidelius Charm works slightly different here. In my version, if the Secret Keeper dies, that simply means the secret cannot ever be told again. For example, Harry & Co still know about Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, but cannot tell anyone else about it._

* * *

**Nothing like the Sun**

_**Chapter 3 - Head of the Order**_

* * *

Naturally, they found not a trace of Severus Snape, neither in the castle nor in the Hogwarts grounds – not that they had expected it; the man had after all left on a _broomstick_ and had certainly not waited for them to catch him.

A quick search of Snape's former office showed that some of his personal belongings seemed to have disappeared, but they could not be too certain about that. After all, the Hogwarts staff members had never been in the habit of going through each other's personal items.

Remus even remarked sourly that this was probably the first time that a Hogwarts staff member cast a look at Snape's private rooms ever since the Potions Master had moved in eighteen years ago. When the day dawned, they finally called the search off. Remus almost had to force Minerva to go to bed and sleep for two hours at least.

Later in the morning, they searched the castle again, this time trying to figure out how Snape could have entered Hogwarts. They found nothing. Mad-Eye Moody detected traces of old magic in several of the old secret passageways out of the castle, but the tunnels were either caved-in or thoroughly protected by spells that had obviously not been broken.

Minerva and Remus set to the tiresome task of double-checking every one of the Hogwarts security measures. Some of the charms protecting the castle had been cast by Albus Dumbledore, and they tried to establish which ones had stopped working after his death. Mad-Eye went to London and searched the house at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, but he found nothing unusual there. The old manor looked as gloomy and neglected as ever.

In the late afternoon, Minerva slept for another two hours. The lack of sleep was taking its toll on her body. When she got up for the Order meeting, Minerva felt as though she had not rested at all.

She had invited every member of the Order of the Phoenix to Hogwarts, plus three new persons – the Weasley twins and Bill's fiancée, Fleur Delacour.

It was a strange and uncomfortable situation to assemble the Order of the Phoenix in Dumbledore's office – in _her_ office now. Much to Minerva's surprise, no one asked for an election of the new Head of the Order. Everyone just assumed it to be her, which did feel rather distressing. She was not ready for this task.

Minerva's apprehension was somewhat compensated by the joyous over-excitement displayed by the Weasley twins. Fred and George were eager to officially join their parents and their older brothers.

Fleur Delacour stood up and declared gravely that she was "´appy to join ze Ordre du Phénix", then she sat down again – next to Molly Weasley, who smiled approvingly. Minerva was glad that the two witches had worked to overcome their animosity.

Immediately after that statement, Fred and George brought up a more difficult issue. They demanded flat-out that their younger siblings, Hermione Granger, and, most importantly of all, Harry Potter should now also be admitted as members of the Order.

Their demand was followed by a lengthy discussion. Molly Weasley and Hagrid immediately spoke up against it, fearing that the Order work would be too dangerous for the trio. Tonks shook her head.

"No," she said thoughtfully. "I think we should admit them. They are of age – well, Harry will be soon enough. And they're bound to go after You-Know-Who. If they're members, we can protect them better."

"Exactly," Fred insisted. "Harry said he'd go and hunt You-Know-Who down, and I don't see how we could stop Ron and Hermione going with him."

"They'll be better-protected and better-informed if they're members," George added.

Minerva looked at the two boys and realised all of a sudden that they were really two young _men_ looking back at her.

"Very well," she said reluctantly. "You do have a point there – we will invite them to the next meeting, and ask them whether they still wish to become members of the Order of the Phoenix."

Molly sobbed dryly, but her sons grinned.

"There's no need," George said. "We've brought them along. Harry did not return to his Muggle family, he's staying with us in Diagon Alley. – They're waiting in the Gryffindor common room."

"Go and fetch them," Minerva ordered curtly; more than just a little bit annoyed with the liberties the twins had taken. "Harry, Ronald, and Hermione. But I'll put my foot down concerning Ginny. She is too young."

Fred rose from his seat and left the room, while Molly cried some more – this time with relief. Arthur put his arm around her shoulders. Even Fleur sniffed a little bit.

Minerva looked up and met Alastor Moody's eyes. The old wizard rolled his eyes in the direction of the crying womanfolk. He was uncomfortable around women who wept easily, and there were more pressing matters to discuss.

"What I'd really like to know," he growled, "is what we'll make of this nocturnal visit the traitor paid you last night."

"That's right," Kingsley Shacklebolt agreed. "What exactly did he say?"

The new Headmistress nodded uneasly. Once more, she recounted what had happened, careful to include every little detail for those who had not yet heard it all. _Almost_ every detail. When she had finished, she looked around and saw that most of the others felt as surprised and shocked as she did.

"So how thick does he think we are?" George finally broke the silence. "Why should we believe him? Don't you think that if Dumbledore had foreseen this coming, he would have told us? – or told _you_ lot, at the very least."

"All he wants is to see himself cleared of all charges," Moody barked. "He's found out that Harry was there as an unexpected eye-witness, so now he tries to get off the hook by saying it was all on Dumbledore's orders."

Several of the assembled witches and wizards nodded vehemently.

"He wants us to continue trusting him, so he can be You-Know-Who's spy on us. But we won't let that happen, I'm telling you!"

"So what's this story about the Unbreakable Vow, anyway? Does anyone think that part is true at least?"

"Nah, no way. He just made that up to make his story more plausible. Poor Snape, would have _died_ if he hadn't committed murder. Oh, now that explains it all!"

"I agree. He just wants to fool us into trusting him again."

"Oh, hush up, all of you!" Tonks interrupted suddenly.

She had been watching Remus and Minerva, who had so far not uttered a single word. The Headmistress looked as though something else was worrying her.

"It's just a guess," Tonks said quietly, "But judging by the look on Minerva's face, I think we might not yet have heard all of it."

Minerva nodded curtly. She had not been looking forward to relating _this_ part of last night's events, and had until now wondered if it was worth mentioning that particular detail.

"Snape also said something else. Something… very odd. He said he did not expect any member of the Order to believe him. He knew we would try to hunt him down like common criminal. He also said that he would not contact the Order ever again unless we explicitly want him to – instead he claimed he'd fight You-Know-Who secretly, as a kind of saboteur."

"He did not expect us to believe him?" Arthur Weasley slowly asked. "But then what was the point of seeing you last night?"

"You see, that is just what is so odd about this all," Minerva explained uncomfortably. "Snape said he cared about _my _opinion only. He suggested that it did not matter to him whether any of you believe his tale, as long as I still trust him."

Silence followed her words. Molly, who had by now stopped her crying, looked at Minerva and met her gaze levelly.

"That's some sharp thinking of him, I have to admit that," she said hotly. "He wants us to disagree on the matter. It's perfect. He makes this 'noble' move of accepting the fact that no one will believe him - and immedialtly he looks like a vicitim. Why, that way he raises the odds for some of us to fall for his story."

"But why would he have chosen to speak to Professor McGonagall then?" George asked. "I mean, wouldn't she be the most unlikely person to believe him? With –"

He broke off just in time. It was one thing to suspect that his former Head of House had also been Dumbledore's secret wife (or mistress), but yet another to say so openly.

"With all the arguments you always had, I mean," he said to Minerva. "Gryffindors and Slytherins have never really been friends, right?"

Minerva and Remus exchanged a look and the werewolf smirked for a split second. Both of them had guessed what George had initially meant to say. Minerva raised one eyebrow and mustered George, who all of a sudden had very pink ears.

"He must have chosen you, Minerva," Molly said decidedly, "because he knows that like Dumbledore you are a kind person. You believe in second chances."

"Don't you, Molly?" Lupin asked quietly, "Don't we all believe a bad person can change their affiliation? We would never have allowed him in the Order if we didn't."

"I am sorry, Remus, but I _would_ never have allowed him, had it been my choice. I never entirely trusted Severus Snape."

"You also never quite trusted Sirius. And you were wrong there."

"I did trust Sirius to be on our side! Remus, you know I did! I might not always have approved of his behaviour, but I did trust him."

"This is going too far," Arthur Weasley interrupted gently. "This argument is not about Sirius, it's about Snape and whether we can believe him. And I do have to say I don't trust him any longer, although I did before."

"Why do you think he told this story to Minerva, then?" Charlie asked.

"Well, I think Molly was on to something there. He wants us to disagree. Even if only _one_ of us believes he may have acted on Dumbledore's orders, we do not stand united any more. Personally I think he may have picked Minerva just because she knows him best of us all. They have worked together for years; that does create some stability in any interpersonal relationship."

"So we do agree not to believe him?" Bill asked.

Minerva looked around, and saw determined faces everywhere. She nodded slowly.

"Maybe that's best for now," Remus Lupin said in a solemn voice. "However, let's just bear in mind that we may have to discuss this again. Snape may approach us again – any one of us. Did he say anything about that, Minerva?"

"He didn't specifically say so, but I think he might come back."

"And what do we do then?" Tonks asked just when Fred opened the door again.

He led his younger brother, Harry, and Hermione into the office room. Minerva was relieved that Harry had not witnessed their previous discussion. Just the mere idea of ever trusting Snape again would probably have made him fret and fume.

The three teenagers looked around and greeted everyone with nervous smiles. Ron sat down next to his brother Bill (and also close enough to Fleur to make Hermione raise her eyebrows).

"Thanks for not allowing Ginny to come," Harry said awkwardly.

"Take a seat, Mr Potter," Minerva answered, but she acknowledged his thanks with a tiny smile.

Harry and Hermione also sat down.

"Fred and George have informed me that the three of you – and Miss Weasley – wish to join the Order of the Phoenix," Minerva went on.

"That's right, Professor," Hermione said. "Harry wants to go after V-Voldemort, and Ron and I will go with him. But I think it'd be safer if we all worked together."

Minerva had flinched when Hermione had spoken the accursed name, along with most of the others. She hated reacting like this, but it was an old and incontrollable habit. Almost everyone who had seen the horrors of the First War could not shake it off.

"Does that mean you, like Mr Potter, do not plan to return to Hogwarts for the next school year?"

"We need to find out more about Voldemort," Harry said in a steady voice. "I will definitely not return, and as for Hermione and Ron – I don't think it's their top priority."

Ron looked out of the window, trying his best to appear nonchalent. He could feel his mother's stare on his back. Hermione looked at Minerva again.

"Professor, two years ago Mr Weasley told us that we could not join because we were not of age _and_ still in school. Both reasons do not apply any more – that is, with Harry this will soon be the case. We want to join."

"Very well," Minerva answered in her own time. "I would rather have you in this Order than unprotected and on your own. But, let me be very clear on that: Ginny Weasley will not join, no matter what her brothers say. She will not partake in any activities of the Order, and any information that is not vital to her must be kept secret."

"Yes," Harry promised immediatly.

"And I do have one more condition, Mr Potter."

"What is that?" Harry asked diffidently.

"The members of the Order of the Phoenix work _together_, Mr Potter," Minerva stated. "We do not keep information from each other. I have asked you before, and I must ask you again: where did you and Professor Dumbledore go before his death?"

Harry bit his lower lip and stared at his former teacher. He had expected this question, but had decided not to answer it – no matter what Hermione had advised him to do. Snape had been a member of the Order, and he had betrayed them. There might be other traitors.

He slowly shook his head.

"I am sorry, Professor. I cannot tell you, even if that means you will not let me join the Order."

"Great Merlin, Harry," Minerva snapped. "Do tell us about the Horcruxes!"

For the second time on this evening, a stunned silence followed Minerva's words.

"_Horcruxces_?" Tonks whispered after a few seconds.

Uncomfortable looks were exchanged. Alastor and Kingsley nodded to each other. Being experienced Aurors, the two of them had also suspected this for a long while.

"Yes," Hermione said eventually. "How did you know, Professor?"

"I did not know," Minerva admitted. "But when you think about it, it is rather obvious. This cursed diary that Tom Riddle had left – that was a Horcrux for certain. Last year, Albus went on a mission that he was almost killed on, but he retrieved an old and obviously cursed ring. I suspect that there must be at least one Horcrux left, possibly more."

"Aye," Alastor growled. "Just what Kingsley and I had reasoned a while ago."

"And, if you must know, Severus Snape," Minerva said dryly. "Considering that he was our resident expert on the Dark Arts, I did discuss my theory with him."

Harry stared at her with barely concealed contempt.

"You told _Snape_?"

"He had already suspected it, if he did not already _know_ through You-Know-Who himself," Minerva said brusquely.

"So that was where you went that night?" Kingsley asked Harry. "To find a Horcrux? Did you get it?"

"No," Harry said bitterly. "No we didn't, and I think that there's a total of _four_ Horcruxes left. Dumbledore believed Voldemort wanted to create seven, and the seventh one by murdering my parents. But that obviously went wrong."

He plunged his hand into the right pocket of his robes and produced a small silver locket. With tears in his eyes, he slammed the thing on Minerva's desk.

"This is what we found. It's nothing. Somebody else was there first, there's a note inside that sort of explains it."

Minerva took the silver locket and opened it carefully. Then she handed it around so that everyone could read the note.

"So the real Horcrux is with somebody else, and we don't know who. And this silver trinket is what Albus Dumbledore died for," she concluded sadly.


	5. Advice

**Nothing Like the Sun**

**_Chapter 4 – Advice_**

* * *

Later that evening, Minerva sat in her small office and tried to concentrate on her book. Most members of the Order had returned to their homes. Only Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody had decided to stay in Hogwarts for one more night, but neither had seemed to be in the mood for company.

She had fetched a copy of _Magick Most Evile_ from the Restricted Section of the library in a desperate attempt to occupy her mind with anything but mourning Albus's death. But now, alone in her office and alone with her thoughts, she found that she was too tired and too stressed to thoroughly study the text.

Minerva slammed the book shut and ignored the faint, protesting wail it emitted after being treated so carelessly. The Order meeting had left her enervated. She would have preferred if the others had elected her as their new leader, instead of just assuming that she would want the position. But with all things considered, the meeting had actually been a quite productive one.

They had admitted several new members, Minerva had succeeded in keeping young Ginny Weasley out of the Order, and they had finally learned the truth about the Horcruxes: it was not too bad for a start. Shortly before they had broken the meeting up, the whole Order had – much to Minerva's surprise – voted to continue using the house in Grimmauld Place for the official headquarters.

Even Mad-Eye Moody had argued that the place was safer than Hogwarts. He did have a point there – Snape could not tell other Death Eaters about Grimmauld Place or lead them there; but he had certainly proven that entering the school building still was possible for one bearing the Dark Mark.

The new Headmistress shuddered involuntarily when her gaze fell on the silver locket on her desk. There were - presumably - _four_ Horcruxes left. It was too much for a boy like Potter, maybe even too much for the whole group of witches and wizards who had now vowed to find and destroy these cursed soul containers. Minerva had the uneasy feeling that quite a few of them would perish during their attempts.

She picked the silver medallion up and studied it for maybe the hundredth time. Possibly this was a first lead they could follow. There could not be that many Death Eaters with the initials R.A.B.

Carefully, Minerva unfolded the little slip of paper once more and re-read the message she already knew by heart.

"Minerva?"

She looked up and saw Remus Lupin standing in her office door, uncertain whether he was welcome.

"I knocked, but you did not hear me…" the werewolf said hesitantly.

"I'm sorry, Remus, I was so lost in thought about this medallion. – What is it, did anything happen?"

Minerva rose to her feet in alarm, but Remus shook his head.

"No, everything is alright. I am sorry I scared you."

"That's quite alright. Come in."

He entered and pulled the door closed behind him. Minerva put the mysterious message back into the locket and closed it.

"Could it be more than one person?" she wondered aloud. "Rookwood, Avery, and Bode, for example?"

"Or Rodolphus And Bellatrix?" Lupin answered, but he shook his head. "It's possible, but I don't think so. Then they would have said '_We_ have stolen the real Horcrux.' – And I cannot imagine the Lestranges or any other living Death Eaters would turn on Voldemort."

"Yes, I think you are right. We will have to find out more about those who have died or disappeared. The writer did say after all that he expected to die."

Remus nodded pensively.

"There are quite a few wizarding families whose name starts with a B… there's Brown, Bones, Black, Borgin, Burke…"

"Bagman – he even was associated with some Death Eaters once."

"It's a start. We will have to get copies of their family trees, but I think Arthur or Kingsley could easily get these in the Ministry. – But that is not why I came to speak to you. I know it's late and we all are in desperate need of sleep, but…"

"Of course."

Minerva put the silver locket back on her desk and led Remus to the small parlour behind her office.

"Do sit down," she said, pointing to the armchairs in front of her fireplace. "What is it that you wish to talk about?"

Remus Lupin stared into the flames for a long moment.

"I was wondering…" he eventually spoke hesitantly, "I was wondering if you have told us everything about your meeting with Snape last night."

"And what exactly makes you think I would withhold vital information?"

Remus looked up and smiled apologetically.

"I did not mean to imply that you withheld anything. I was more wondering about… how it came to take place."

"I still don't know how Severus could have entered Hogwarts," Minerva said sharply. "We have spoken about that, and it is not a very comforting thought. I am truly glad that we were able to send the students home with such a lax security system."

"That is not quite what I meant. I was wondering how Severus could have made you listen to him," Remus explained.

Minerva blinked, and the werewolf smiled again.

"I just cannot picture that situation – you discovered Severus Snape in your bedroom and did not immediately put up a good fight?"

There. Remus had touched a very raw nerve, and Minerva bit her lower lip. This was the one little detail that had been bothering her for the past twenty hours.

Just why had she not immediately stunned Snape and called for backup? Snape himself had pointed it out; she could have overcome the barriers he had created.

"Remus… I trust this is entirely between us?"

He nodded. "Of course."

"I have been asking myself that very question over and over again. I do not know why I didn't fight. I disarmed him right away, and then… he made absolutely no move to defend himself. I know I should have stunned him."

"You have no idea why you didn't do it? Maybe he was using some kind of charm?"

"No, it didn't feel like he controlled me in any way..." Minerva pondered. "To be perfectly honest, I think I didn't do it because it simply did not feel right. He did not attack; he just stood there like – like a victim. I wasn't up it. Remus, I am growing old and senile."

"No, you're not," he said warmly.

"I wasn't fishing for compliments, I was stating a _fact_."

"Just when did you start thinking in Muggle years? Seventy-something is no age for a witch. Albus was over a hundred and fifty and few people thought him old."

"Albus was exceptional."

"He may have aged exceptionally slow – but a hundred and fifty is a common age for a healthy witch or wizard. You could easily live another seventy or eighty years, you're no more than middle-aged now. Now please stop considering yourself old."

"I certainly feel like it," Minerva protested faintly, trying not to show how Remus's words had made her feel much better.

"Well, don't. We certainly have more important matters to discuss."

Lupin's voice was gentle, but he spoke deliberately.

"So we can rule out the possibility that Severus charmed you somehow," he concluded with a little smirk, "And it also seems fairly safe to assume that you are _not_ too old to react appropriately when encountering a Death Eater."

"Fairly safe, hm?" Minerva repeated and almost allowed herself to smile.

"I should say so. Well, I can then think of only one reason why you would not have stunned Severus."

"What do you mean?"

"He must have been very convincing with what he said."

"He was," Minerva admitted; almost shocked to hear herself say so.

"Do you believe his story?" Lupin asked bluntly.

When she did not answer right away, he continued in a softer voice, "You know, I think there might be something to it."

"You do? – But you said at the meeting that we ought to agree not to trust him."

"First and foremost, I believe that we need to _agree_. There is absolutely no proof for Severus's version of events. We still do not know why Dumbledore trusted him in the first place. And we cannot allow the members of the Order to speculate on this matter all the time. It is safer to not trust him."

Minerva stared at her younger friend, and he met her gaze levelly.

"But you do think he might have said the truth after all," she said at length.

"He might. We cannot know."

"Remus… he did say something else, something I have not yet told you," Minerva said slowly, still wondering if it made sense to mention this detail. But then she drew in a deep breath and continued resolutely.

"Severus said coming to see me and telling his story was a… spontaneous action. He claimed that he had returned only to collect some of his belongings and decided to speak to me after - after he overheard us talking last night."

Lupin raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Ah, but that figures. It would certainly make sense."

"What do you mean? It does not make any sense to me."

"Minerva, do remember what we spoke about last night. – Personal relationships. Teacher-student relationships; or at least friendships that may develop between a teacher and his or her former pupil."

"So…?"

"It's not _that_ uncommon for a student to fancy one of his teachers," Lupin said with a meaningful grin. "You mentioned you'd experienced that yourself when you were a pupil. Well, during our final year in Hogwarts I sometimes thought Severus might have developed a certain liking to you."

"But that was – twenty years ago!"

"Yes, of course, that's long past. But haven't you noticed how Severus has always respected you more than any other staff member? Oh, sure, he had a special relationship with Dumbledore, but did he ever like anyone else? Did he have friends?"

"Well, he did get along with the other staff members – more or less. But I am not aware of any close friends…"

"Because there were none. Nobody liked him, nobody trusted him, but it was all whispers behind his back. Nobody ever stood up to him – except for you. I think he rather enjoyed it when you won arguments against him, or had your Quidditch team compete against his. That you respected him and treated him as an equal meant a lot to Severus."

"He certainly never showed that," Minerva said dryly.

"Well, I admit there might have been… hints," she admitted a second later. "He could adjust to socially acceptable behaviour, if he wanted to. There may have been moments when we did not glare at each other but acted friendly."

"You were friends," Remus said decidedly. "You did for some reason always feel the need to draw a veil of sarcasm over this fact, and Severus never shows his emotions. But he could not hide the circumstance that he respected you."

He rose from his chair and stretched tiredly.

"I think I'd better go now. We all need to rest."

"Goodnight, Remus."

Minerva escorted him to the door, still thinking about what he had said. There was something to his theories. Just before he stepped out into the hallway, Remus turned around once more.

"As far as this is about the Order," he said seriously. "I will still vote not to trust Severus. We do need to stand united."

She nodded, understanding what he meant to imply.

"But privately, you think his tale might be worth considering."

"I think there may be a possibility that he spoke the truth. It is not that unlikely that he told _you_ of all people simply because he could not bear the thought that you believe him a cold-blooded murderer. Possibly he just wanted you to know he still is your friend."

* * *

Remus left very early in the next morning, he did not even stay for breakfast. Alastor Moody, on the other hand, insisted on checking the secret passages to Hogsmeade one more time before he departed. It took him the better part of the day before he finally seemed satisfied that all of them were either caved in or blocked by heavy guarding spells.

It was almost tea-time when he finally showed up in Minerva's office, still sporting an arrangement of dust, cobwebs, and the occasional dead beetle on his robes.

"Well," he declared upon entering the office.

Minerva smiled and put her book away. She had finally found a volume that discussed the theory of Horcruxes – and it had not really surprised her that she should have found this book in Snape's former office.

"Well?" she asked.

"There's no way into this castle I could find," Moody informed her. "Snape must've gotten in because Dumbledore's protection had worn off after – ye know."

"After Dumbledore's death," Minerva clarified decidedly.

"Exactly," he answered uncomfortably. "Well, anyway I think ye'll be safe here for now."

"I think I will. Even if Snape returns, he will not wish to harm me – that is, if he still sticks to his story."

Moody snorted while brushing some of the dirt off his coat.

"He can't think ye'd be that daft. You'll have to be careful, right? Constant vigilance, remember that."

"Alastor, I _was_ an Auror, even if that was some forty years ago," Minerva said, not quite knowing whether to be annoyed or touched by his concern. "I can look after myself."

"I know you was an Auror," he replied impatiently. "But you did not do much field-work. Always more the schooling type, you was –"

"Alastor…"

"Alright," he said gruffly. "I know y'can look after yerself. But there's Hagrid, too, and some other folks staying here at Hogwarts, and you'll have to look after them as well… just remember to call me if there's trouble."

"I will, _if_ there is a problem."

They looked at each other for a long moment, and Moody finally nodded. Minerva felt a smile broaden on her face. She liked the old Auror, even if he was not always easy to have around.

"So I'll be going then," he said after a while.

Minerva escorted him to the front doors, where a house-elf guarded Moody's light luggage. Mad-Eye Moody would never leave his belongings unattended at any time. Even so, he insisted on checking his old-fashioned carpet bag before he sent the elf away.

"It was nice to have you here in Hogwarts," Minerva said sincerely while she opened the doors, "even if the occasion was a sad one."

Moody tilted his head and made some guff sound, which she interpreted as a farewell. The Auror picked his small carpet bag up and left, but after a stomping a few paces he turned around once more.

"Listen, about Snape –" he started once again.

"Yes, I _will_ be careful."

"That's not quite what I meant," he cut her off. "Well, that, too, but… Minerva, if he sticks to that tall story, don't you believe it. Ye're a kind person even if you always keep to that stern teacher act, and I know you liked the lad. Don't fall for it. He'd betray you – all of us – again."

Minerva felt a wave of anger surge up for being lectured like that, but when she looked at Moody's face she controlled the sentiment. Now that Albus Dumbledore had died, it was only to be expected that Moody's penchant for paranoia had increased.

The old fellow was truly concerned, and brusquely barking advice at her probably was his only way to express his true sentiments.

"You are right, Alastor," she answered. "That was a very… sensible piece of advice."

He nodded again, turned around, and stomped away for good. Minerva watched him take the path to Hogsmeade and disapparate as soon as he had left the Hogwarts grounds.

She could not deny the fact that Mad-Eye Moody's advice had been sensible. But privately she had liked Lupin's advice better.


	6. Return of the Spy

**Nothing like the Sun**

_**Chapter 5 – Return of the Spy**_

* * *

"Head o' Gryffindor House?!"

Rubeus Hagrid stared at the new Headmistress. He was absolutely certain that his ears had just deceived him, but the witch nodded curtly while shuffling through the papers on her desk.

"Me?" he repeated incredulously. "Yeh want me fer the new Head o' House?"

"I just asked you, didn't I? – Ah, there it is."

Minerva took a large piece of parchment and unfolded it. She scanned the list of names.

"Professor Flitwick has kindly agreed to take up the post of Deputy Headmaster," she declared while running her finger down the list. "Remus Lupin will teach Defence once again. Unfortunately I have not found anyone who could teach Transfiguration…"

Hagrid grinned slyly. He knew from experience that Transfiguration was an extremely complicated subject; in truth he had never really found out how to properly change a teacup into a mouse – or why anybody would wish to perform this little trick.

But Minerva was _passionate _about Transfiguration. Chances were a hundred to one that he would encounter a vegetarian Acromantula before Minerva McGonagall found someone she considered good enough to teach her favourite subject.

"…so I will cover that class myself," she continued. "But it is absolutely out of the question for the Headmistress to be a Head of House as well. You'll have to do it, Hagrid."

"But strictly speakin'… Headmistress, this is the finest school o' witchraft in the world. Yer can't want me ter..."

"Now why ever not?"

Minerva looked up from her parchment and granted him one of her rare smiles.

"Hagrid, the children like you," she said firmly. "And what's even more, I know I can trust you. You know Hogwarts like the back of your hand. I cannot think of anyone who'd be better suited for this job."

"What about Remus? He's a Gryffindor an' –"

"I'm asking _you_, Hagrid," she replied with a touch of impatience in her voice.

"Well, alright then…" the gamekeeper said hoarsely.

He felt a lump in his throat that was hard to swallow down. Hagrid's vision clouded just a little bit and he quickly produced his big handkerchief to dry his eyes and blow his nose.

When he looked up again, he saw that Minerva had pushed her tartan biscuit tin towards him. Bless her heart, she was a nice one. Always acting stern and proper, but she'd always been his friend ever since their school days. And now she even acted as though she had not seen him cry because she'd been too busy with the tin.

"I'm afraid it's only shortbread," she said dryly. "I know you prefer rock cakes."

"I'll bring yeh some tomorrow," Hagrid promised, taking one of the biscuits. "Made a whole bunch las' week fer Harry's birthday."

"I do have some more things to discuss with you."

"'Course."

"I know you won't like this, but I'd like to re-hire Professor Grubbly-Plank – as a _second_ teacher for this subject," she emphasised quickly. "The Order of the Phoenix needs you. You may have to go see the giants again, or go on other missions."

"Well, sure," Hagrid said brightly, already looking forward to these missions.

"She's right good with Magical Creatures ev'n if she does tell 'em kids a bit ter much about unicorns and fairies. But, two teachers fer one subject… isn't that a bit uncommon?"

"We also have two Divination Professors," Minerva stated with a sigh.

She was not happy at all that Divination still was a subject in Hogwarts, but both Sybill Trelawney and Firenze were outcasts. She could not send them away. At least the centaur seemed to know what he was doing when he tried to impress the meaning of omens on the students.

"That's right. Well, good idea, I think. Professor Grubbly-Plank is in Hogsmeade right now, she's visiting wi' her sister."

"Excellent. I shall owl her later today."

Minerva rose from her seat and Hagrid took this as a cue that the meeting was over. He collected his belongings – for some reason he always lost a few owl treats or one of Fang's bones wherever he sat down – and slowly went to the door.

"Well, goodbye then," he said.

The Headmistress nodded. Hagrid noticed that she was looking out of the window in the direction of where Dumbledore's tomb was.

"Are yeh all right?" he asked with genuine concern. "Yeh look a bit sad."

"I'm alright, Hagrid," she answered, looking up. "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."

He turned and opened the door to the spiral staircase. Minerva called him back when he was just about to leave.

"Hagrid?"

"Yes?"

"That dispute Snape allegedly had with Dumbledore, the one you overheard – did you think about it some more? Do you remember anything else?"

"Ah, that one."

Hagrid shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Hermione had questioned him endlessly about that, and he still did not know what to make of all this.

Snape was evil, that much was obvious – he had murdered Professor Dumbledore, so how could there be any doubt? But that also meant that Dumbledore had been wrong in his judgement of Snape, and Hagrid could simply not fathom that the old man could ever have been wrong.

"I dunno," Hagrid said slowly. "Given it a lot o' thought. I can't tell yeh what exactly they spoke about. Snape was angry, and yellin', and sayin' Dumbledore took too much fer granted and that he was not gonna do it. But I dunno what that 'it' was."

"It's alright, Hagrid. Thank you."

"Goodnight, Headmistress."

Minerva nodded another goodbye, and the half-giant left. She heard his heavy steps on the spiral staircase and then the familiar grating sound as the stone gargoyle stepped aside.

She shook her head and smiled slightly. Hagrid was one of Minerva's oldest and best friends, even though they had never 'officially' been close. Even former students like Remus (or Snape) had eventually gotten used to addressing her by her given name – Hagrid, on the other hand, would always insist on employing her title. But during every Christmas staff party for the past thirty-something years, he had kissed her on the cheek.

Deeply lost in thought, she remained standing at the window and watched Hagrid walk back to his hut. It was already getting dark, and there were heavy rain-clouds in the sky. Minerva closed the window and stepped back into her office.

She looked around. Inhabiting these rooms still did not feel quite right. In the back of her head, she would always consider this flat in the tower as Albus Dumbledore's rooms; and she could not help but remember that some thirty years ago she had hoped to _share_ these quarters with him. Now she had finally moved in, but only because she had been officially promoted to Headmistress.

Minerva had removed all of Dumbledore's belongings and sent them to his brother Aberforth; then she had re-decorated the rooms according to her taste. But even now that all the magical devices sitting ornate tables were gone, she still was deeply aware of Albus's presence.

His portrait had naturally appeared on the wall, but the painted Dumbledore still was asleep and would probably not wake for several months. As far as Minerva recalled, Armando Dippet's portrait had remained silent for more than a year, and privately she hoped that Dumbledore would imitate his predecessor there. She was not yet ready to speak to such a vivid ghostly image of a man whom she missed dearly in flesh and blood.

There was one of Albus's possessions which Minerva had not been able to remove from the office – not because she had wanted to keep it, but because it apparently was charmed to remain there. Dumbledore's Pensieve still stood in the old black cabinet behind the entrance door.

The heavy stone basin appeared to be damaged. The contents no more were the familiar silvery, ever-swirling cloud of thoughts, but had turned into a mass of solid matter that made Minerva think of frozen fog or a shattered acicular crystal. The ice-blue splinters felt painfully cold when one tried to touch them.

Minerva suspected that Dumbledore had placed a powerful protection charm on the Pensieve. He had certainly not wanted his memories to be on public display after his death.

She had tried to give the Pensieve to Aberforth together with the rest of his inheritance, but both the memory basin and the cabinet it stood in had become immobile. Minerva had decided to leave it alone for the time being. There were more important matters to attend to.

The Headmistress sat down at her desk and went through her pile of letters to answer. There was the invitation for Bill and Fleur's wedding, and a short note from Hermione saying that the Trio had decided to go to Godric's Hollow. Harry had never seen the remains of his parents' house or their grave. He wanted to go there and speak to old neighbours. Possibly one of them had noticed something that could now help them in their search for the Horcruxes.

Remus Lupin had sent his weekly report on werewolf activities. All summer long, he had tried to find out more about their goals; but he had not been overly successful so far.

Oddly enough, no one at all had heard about any obvious movements on Voldemort's side. It had been a strangely uneventful summer in that regard. It was as though Voldemort was content for now; now that Albus Dumbledore was dead. Minerva presumed that he would go after Harry once again, but so far they had been able to protect the boy.

Minerva scribbled a few short answers to various letters. She would send them out tomorrow. By now, it was raining heavily and Minerva felt sorry for the owls. She stretched, and then started to draw up a long letter to Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank. She had not seen the other teacher in more than a year, even though Wilhelmina's sister lived in Hogsmeade where she and her husband bred crups.

She was half-way through the letter when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," Minerva called, expecting that it would be Hagrid again.

Instead, Severus Snape entered the room. Minerva jumped from her seat and immediately pointed her wand at him.

Snape looked even paler than usual and appeared to be very much on his guard. His face had a starved look, and his shabby clothes were dripping with rain and mud. There was a little blood running down from his left temple.

"Severus! How did you get in here?!"

"Please, Minerva. I don't have much time."

Snape glanced at her as though he wanted to make sure that she would not stun him right away, then he produced his wand with a carefully slow movement. He went to her desk and put it down there.

"See, I am unarmed. I will not hurt you," he said sincerely. "I have news for you."

"You look awful. What are you doing here?"

Minerva snatched his ebony wand off the desk and pocketed it, all the while still threatening him with her own wand.

"I have news, like I said."

Snape walked to the fireplace and held his hands over the flames to warm himself, but he did not break the eye-contact.

"I see you have decided not to arrest me right away," he said with a nasty smile.

"Don't push your luck."

Minerva raised her wand a little higher, demonstrating that she was willing and ready to attack any second. Snape turned around. His movements were oddly stiff and slow, as though he was in pain but did not want to show it.

"I just came from Hogsmeade, where the Dark Lord sent me today," he explained hurriedly, as though he was trying to convey as much information as possible in a short time.

"He sent me there to place Madam Rosmerta under the Imperius Curse again, which I did. She is to collect information on what is going on at Hogwarts and pass it on to certain Death Eaters – also, she is to poison Horace Slughorn on his next visit to the Three Broomsticks. I thought you might like to know so you can release her from the curse and prevent the poisoning."

"What - !"

"Then, I wanted to inform you that the Dark Lord is preparing for a great battle. When and where this is to take place, I do not know – but it will not be anytime too soon."

Minerva nodded. She did not know if any of this was true, but she would hear him out. Any detail might be important.

"I think he wants to demonstrate his power with this battle. And I think he will succeed. Many will fall; others will simply fear to oppose him – and then, once his rule is established, there will be the usual legions of opportunists and claqueurs. People who will choose the easy way and become faithful followers," Snape said contemptuously.

He paused, but went on when Minerva did not interrupt him.

"Once he has won the battle he can come into the open. He thinks finishing Potter off will be much easier when there is no Ministry and no Order to protect the boy, and personally I believe he is right about that. Potter has had extraordinary luck, and he has always had the right friends to protect him. It will be different once he is on his own in a world ruled by the Dark Lord."

"Can you prove any of this?"

"Yes… no, not really. Speak to Rosmerta." Snape paused again, as though he was trying to think of anything else he could procure as evidence. "He wants to use dark creatures in the battle. I spent the last three weeks in Russia and Eastern Europe. We brought five yearling dragons here to be trained for the Dark Lord."

"Dragons? To be trained for war? How horrible."

Minerva pondered this for a moment. If Snape had indeed handled young dragons in the past weeks, that did explain why he was in pain now. He had never been good with magical creatures – for one split second, Minerva almost smiled when she remembered the litany of imprecations that had followed his encounter with Fluffy the three-headed dog.

"Is that why you're hurt?"

"Yes."

"Show me."

"What?" Snape snapped indignantly. "There is no time for such nonsense."

"I _will_ see your injuries," Minerva said decidedly, stressing every syllable. "If they look like dragon-inflicted wounds, that might raise the odds for me to believe what you are saying."

"I see."

Snape was obviously uncomfortable with the request, but jerked his robes open after another moment of hesitation.

"Well, if you must –"

He opened his shirt and pulled a dirty bandage aside. Still clutching her wand, Minerva moved closer and inspected the wounds carefully.

There were two parallel cuts over Snape's ribcage. Each one was wide and deep enough that she could have put her whole finger in there. The edges were inflamed, and there was bone shining through the pus in the wounds. Some yellow ointment covered the cuts, but they were certainly not healing properly.

"That does look painful. And I have to admit these could very well be slashes from a dragon's talons."

Snape did not reply but replaced the bandage and dressed again. Minerva turned, went to her desk chair and sat down. She saw by his movements that he was in much pain, but no sound came from his lips.

"The blood on your face, where does that come from?"

"Rosmerta. She did put up a rather good fight before I got her with the curse. Sent some of her kitchen knives flying after me."

Minerva suppressed another smirk. She could picture the situation quite well.

"There are more important things to discuss than my health," Snape said sharply. "There is some more proof for what I am telling you. The dragons are kept close to where the giants live. Hagrid should know the place. If you sent some skilled dragon trainers there, they might be able to foil the Dark Lord's plans."

The Headmistress nodded slowly. Snape's choice of words was interesting. He had assumed that she would not go to the mountains herself, but would _send_ other people who were willing to follow her orders.

Apparently Snape knew that she was the new Head of the Order. Minerva bit her lip. Had he just made an intelligent guess, or was there another mole within the Order?

"Be careful," Snape went on, unaware of what she was thinking. "The giants are not exactly happy with what is going on. They have not yet officially decided to aid the Dark Lord, and they do not like wizards and dragons all over their mountains."

"Is that all?"

"Don't you think that was quite an amount of information for now? I risk my life coming here to tell you this. I must hurry to get back to the Dark Lord."

"Before you do that, you will tell me how you entered Hogwarts again."

Minerva stood up again looked him straight in the eyes.

"Our security system has been improved significantly, and I will certainly not tell you how. It seems impossible that anyone should be able to get in."

"Anyone but me."

Snape sighed, and hesitated just a moment. "I created a Blood Gate in one of the caved-in tunnels," he then admitted.

"A Blood Gate? Just like the one You-Know-Who used in the cave by the sea?"

"Almost. I told you that no Death Eater will be able to enter the school by the way I use. This Gate will open to my blood only."

"I still do not appreciate having this secret entrance to my castle!"

Minerva realised that she had started to pace the room. She forced herself to stand still and focus.

"When did you create it? I see you were certainly planning ahead," she said acidly.

"I created this Gate in my sixth year at Hogwarts. I can assure you, at that time I was not planning to use it the way I currently do."

"You created a Blood Gate when you were as student?" she repeated incredulously. "What, sixteen years old? That is hard to believe! These Gates are Dark Magic – also, having it answer to your blood only, that is highly advanced magic."

"I was rather proud of it at the time. You see, I was sick of having to use the same passages glorious James Potter and his friends used when I wanted to sneak out of the castle."

"Still, that's almost impossible to believe!"

Snape shrugged defiantly, and Minerva felt herself grudgingly admit that he was possibly _not_ lying. This was exactly the kind of thing 16-year-old Severus Snape would have done. He would have employed brilliant, but dark magic just to spite James Potter.

They stood in uncomfortable silence for maybe half a minute.

"Severus –" Minerva finally said, "thank you for coming here tonight. If you do speak the truth, you risked your life."

"If I do speak the truth," he repeated bitterly, and they exchanged another long look.

"I will leave now."

Minerva reached into her pocket and drew out Snape's wand. She slowly handed it to him, realising too late that she held it the wrong way – with the tip pointing towards herself, so that he could immediately use it against her. Minerva held her breath, waiting anxiously what would happen next.

Snape simply took the wand and slid it up his sleeve. If he had noticed her little moment of insecurity, he did not show it.

* * *

_A/N: Many thanks to Chemistress for additional beta-reading!_


	7. Hallows

**Nothing like the Sun**

_**Chapter 6 – Hallows**_

* * *

It was dark and dusty in the basement of the old Potter house, and, to tell the truth, a little bit scary. Hermione did not mind the old cobwebs (though Ron was not too happy about anything that suggested the presence of spiders), but she felt uncomfortable in a place that appeared way too normal when you knew what horrible things had happened there.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had arrived in Godric's Hollow two days earlier and had found the ruins of the old cottage. Most of the house was still standing, but there was a gaping hole in the wall of the top floor and the roof had come down. All of the windows had been shattered, if not by the backfiring curse sixteen years ago, then by storms in the years to follow. The cottage was uninhabitable, but the trio had found the entrance to the basement rooms which offered some shelter.

The three of them had made their camp there, among boxes of old clothes and all the bits and bobs that always end up in the basement of a family home. Harry had had to swallow hard when he found a box with a toy wand, still in the original wrappings, labelled "for ages 3 and above". A small gift tag marked it as a present from Remus Lupin, "for when Harry is old enough". The toy wand was holly, just like the real wand Harry used now.

They had spent the better part of the past two days talking to neighbours, Muggles and wizards alike. There was an old Muggle lady who had immediately recognised Harry as James's son, "my, looking so much like your father, dear, he would have been so proud of you."

The friendly lady remembered how she had once in a while babysat for Harry when Lily had gone grocery shopping, and how he had always liked the cat to sleep in his cradle so that he could cuddle with the feline.

She even offered to let Harry and his friends stay with her, but said she understood that they wanted to sleep in the ruined cottage instead.

"It's a bit of an adventure, isn't it? Young people always like adventures."

But she had not noticed anything unusual on Hallowe'en 1981. Except, of course, that "horrible gas explosion, oh, my dear boy, you were so lucky to survive."

It was the same with the magical neighbours. All of them had been questioned by Dumbledore and other members of the Order of the Phoenix, again and again. They remembered the explosion, the burning home, and the flight of those Death Eaters who had accompanied Voldemort. They even recalled how Sirius had come looking for Harry, how Hagrid and arrived, and how he had finally taken baby Harry away on Sirius's motorbike. But none of them knew what the Potters had worked on _before_ these events.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had decided to search the cottage for clues, and then to move on. Being here was too painful for Harry.

It was their last evening in Godric's Hollow. They had spent most of the hot August day searching the ruin, and were now going through a few boxes they had found in the basement. Apparently they had been owled to Petunia Dursley – _after_ the events of Hallowe'en, if one could go by the postage stamp – but they were marked "Return to Sender". Someone had packed up a few of the Potters' belongings and sent them to Lily's sister, but Petunia had not accepted the parcels.

Harry and Ron were going through the contents of one box, while Hermione read them a letter by Remus Lupin that a small grey owl had just delivered. Harry was not really set on his task. They had already examined this box full of old books, but most of them were works on magic and mythology that they knew already from the Hogwarts library.

"Lupin says here that McGonagall made Hagrid Head of Gryffindor House," Hermione said.

"Seems a bit odd to me," she added as an afterthought. "Why Hagrid? I mean, he'll be ever so proud, but strictly speaking he's not even allowed to use magic..."

"Hagrid?" Ron beamed. "But that's great. He'll do alright."

"Sure, but why not Lupin? He mentions he'll teach Defence, so he'll be at Hogwarts."

"I reckon McGonagall had enough trouble to get the permission to have him teach again," Harry pondered. "And Lupin's going to do lots of stuff for the Order, finding out about the werewolves and all that. He might just not spend enough time in Hogwarts."

"Maybe…" Hermione muttered, still not fully convinced. She read on.

Ron randomly leafed through one of the mythology books. Not that he would ever admit it, but he liked the look of Celtic knot patterns. Two weeks ago, he had bought a silver necklace with a Celtic Cross pendant, but had not yet dared to present it to Hermione.

"They released Madam Rosmerta from the Imperius Curse," Hermione related next. "The poor woman, she must feel awful. That's the second time she was under that curse."

"_I _certainly would feel awful if Snape had placed me under an Imperius," Harry said pointedly.

Hermione shrugged. Just mentioning Snape's name was a sure way to start Harry rambling for half an hour, and although she agreed that Snape was not to be trusted, she was in no mood to listen to her friend rant and rave while they had other things to do.

"Apparently she's fine now. And she confirmed that it was Snape, just like he said. Let's see, what else... oh, Lupin says Charlie has agreed to go with Hagrid. Oh, and they have already owled that they've found the dragons and have an idea how to set them free."

"Why didn't Charlie tell us himself?" Ron wondered, not really listening. He had found that one chapter of his book was marked with small, hand-written notes.

"He'll probably write once it's done. Or he might have owled your Mum and Dad, y'know, after your Mum almost forbid him to go with Hagrid because she thought the dragons were just a ruse Snape had made up."

Hermione saw Harry open his mouth and continued quickly, " – yes, there, Lupin says they expect another letter from Charlie and Hagrid any day now. Looks like the giants are really angry that suddenly there's all those dark wizards in their mountains. Maybe Hagrid has a chance to befriend some of them."

"Can he stay there, just like that? The school-year starts in a week."

"And we're not going to be there!" Ron shouted, grinning madly.

"He'll have to get back to Hogwarts soon, but McGonagall hired Professor Grubbly-Plank again, didn't you know? She can cover some of his classes. And Lupin will keep an eye on Gryffindor House, even if he's not the official Head."

Hermione yawned and put the letter down. "Merlin, it's hot today. And that stuffy air down here in the basement makes me drowsy..."

She handed the letter to the boys in case they wanted to read it, but none of them reacted. Harry had opened another old box, and Ron still was engrossed in his book.

"Honestly, Ron, I never thought I'd one day see you with your nose in a book you do not _have_ to read," she teased gently.

Ron merely grunted. Harry searched through his box, but found nothing but an old-fashioned, delicate tea-set. Grumpily, he thought that Aunt Petunia would probably not have returned this parcel had she known what was inside.

"I can't believe we haven't found a single clue here in Godric's Hollow," he sighed. "I mean, we know my parents were working with Dumbledore. Certainly they were careful, but all we know is that they were 'full-time fighters', whatever that means. Did they spy on Death Eaters, or were they doing research..."

"Maybe I've found something," Ron interrupted. He quite enjoyed the stunned silence that followed his words.

"Hey, every dog has his day," he grinned. "Even I have ideas sometimes."

Hermione blushed visibly, but Harry only grinned back.

"What did you find?"

"Here –" Ron pushed his book towards Harry. "Look at that. The handwriting looks like that we found upstairs in that old address book, so I suppose it's your Mum's. Looks like she made some notes in the chapter. Maybe some research."

"Let me see that." Hermione positively grabbed the book from Harry.

"_The Four Treasures, also know as the Hallows of Ireland,_" she read aloud. "_Four magical items, that the mythological people of the goddess Danu, the Tuatha Dé Danann_ – sorry, I have no idea how to pronounce that – _are said to have brought with them when they arrived in Ireland. According to legend, these four items came from the island cities of Murias, Falias, Gorias and Findias. The magical items are: the Stone of Fal from Falias, the Spear of Lug from Gorias, the Cauldron of the Dagda from Murias, and the Sword of Núadu from Findias._"

"So what's that to do with Voldemort?" Harry interrupted, craning his neck to see what Hermione was reading.

"Here," the young witch pointed. "There is a note scribbled in: _'Hallows of Ireland – Hallows of the Founders? L.V. has aquired Cup. Psbly looking for the other pieces.'_"

"So what are these Hallows of the Founders?" Ron wondered aloud. "It does make some sense. Stuff from our world often comes up in Muggle legends, and if You-Know-Who was after those Hallows then I reckon they're important..."

"I think you've got it," Hermione muttered excitedly. "Yes, of course. How could I have been so stupid! All the time we were wondering just what the Horcruxes might be and… naturally, he would have wanted the Hallows. They are like the most important artefacts in British magical history."

Hermione got up from the floor and darted to her rucksack in the next room. Harry and Ron exchanged one long look.

"You have no idea either, do you?" Ron whispered.

"Mm-hmm," Harry shook his head. "Never heard of them. As far as I know, Hallows are like some sort of holy grave... you know, like in that _Lord of the Rings_ book Hermione tried to make us read."

Hermione came back, already leaving through a book.

"_Hogwarts, a Histoy_?" Ron guessed.

"Naturally," Harry replied under his breath.

Hermione had in the meantime found the paragraph she was looking for. "There," she declared loudly. "Naturally, none of you has any idea what I was talking about?"

She did not even wait for Harry and Ron to shake their heads, but began to read the text to them.

"'_It is widely believed that each of the Founders of Hogwarts left one powerful magical object in the possession of the school. According to legend, each of these items was later presented to outstanding teachers or students, though sources vary as to whom they were handed over to. Other sources claim that the objects were handed down in the Founders' families. Today, the whereabouts of neither Hallow are known.'_"

"The Hufflepuff Cup," Harry interrupted excitedly. "You know, that golden cup in the memory Dumbledore showed me. Is that one of the Hallows?"

"Exactly," Hermione confirmed, and read on. "_'The Hallows of the Founders are: The Stone of Slytherin, the Spear of Ravenclaw, the Cup of Hufflepuff, and the Sword of Gryffindor.'_ – Now, there certainly is a parallel to the Hallows of Ireland. We might be on to something. If Voldemort was searching for items he deemed worthy to become Horcruxes... I reckon the Hallows were just the thing for him."

Harry nodded slowly. "I think you're right," he said pensively. "And it does add up. Dumbledore said Voldemort most likely wanted have seven Horcruxes, but number seven was supposed to be created through my death. We have two, Riddle's diary and Gaunt's ring. And we're looking for four more."

"Maybe the Stone of Slytherin is inside the real Locket Horcrux," Ron contemplated.

"Possibly," Hermione said. "Or the stone in Gaunt's ring was the Stone of Slytherin. It says here that the Stone of Slytherin is black. Voldemort might have chosen the locket just because it was another family heirloom. Anyway, we know now what we have to look for."

"The locket, Hufflepuff's Cup, Ravenclaw's Spear, and Gryffindor's Sword."

"But we already know where the Sword of Gryffindor is," Ron objected. "And You-Know-Who would not have been able to draw it out of the Sorting Hat because he was a Slytherin."

"He may have found some way around that – a Gryffindor Death Eater, or maybe he Imperiused a Gryffindor student..."

"That's right..."

The three of them fell silent, each one following their own thoughts. Eventually, Hermione got up and returned her book to her rucksack. Harry followed her with his eyes.

"You still haven't given her that necklace, have you?" he asked his friend when Hermione had left the room.

Ron frowned. "No," he admitted hesitantly. "There never was – the opportune moment."

"Would you like to spend some time alone with her?" Harry probed.

"Yeah, I reckon I would," Ron answered, grinning nervously. "Why, d'you fancy going for a long walk for the rest of the night?"

"As though tonight would be an opportune moment," Harry snorted. "Hermione will be buried in her books until she knows everything about the Hallows by heart. – No, I was thinking… listen, Ron, you're my best mate and I do appreciate that you wanted to come with me. But this is my parents' home. I would... I want to spend some time alone here. Even if it's a sad place."

"You want us to leave you alone?"

"Just for a while. What we found out tonight – it's not safe to put that down in a letter anyway. Why don't you and Hermione go back to Hogwarts and tell McGonagall and the Order? If anybody else asks you about me, pretend you're fed up with my obsession to save the world and that you have decided to go back to school. That may even fool Voldemort's followers."

"Yeah, right."

"Alright, so it might not fool them, but it will confuse them if we split up. And Hermione can use the Hogwarts library. Now that we know what we're looking for, she might find something. Ron, I won't be alone out here. You know the Order's keeping an eye on us, today I saw Dedalus Diggle try to do a Disillusionment Charm _and_ hide behind a tree when we left the cottage..."

Ron was silent for a long time before he agreed reluctantly.

"Yeah, ok. We'll go back, but only if – Harry, you'll write every day and tell us you're ok. And you'll tell us to come if you find out where one of the Horcruxes is. Promise. _Swear_ that you'll not run off and play the hero all on your own."

"I promise," Harry said solemnly. He had indeed planned to go on without his friends, but did realise all of a sudden how glad he was that they insisted to be with him.

The two young men shook hands to seal their promise, in an oddly formal way.

"Aw," Ron then said grumpily. "Back to school. What have I done to deserve this?"


	8. Catching Cats

**Nothing like the Sun**

_**Chapter 7 – **__**Catching Cats**_

* * *

Two weeks. The new school year was two weeks old, and Minerva had no idea how she had survived them. It felt like eons had passed, and then again, everything was still so _new_ that she could hardly believe that she had made it through two weeks already.

It was not that she was not up to the job of being Headmistress of Hogwarts.

Heavens, Dumbledore had always spent so much time away from the school that she had often chided her old mentor because he left her all the work to do. For almost forty years, she had taken care of almost all the administrative work, had prepared and organised exams, scheduled the Quidditch matches, and discussed the meal plans with the kitchen house-elves. Minerva knew well how to run a school.

The staff stood behind her decisions. The parents, and, even more importantly, the students had accepted her as the new Headmistress. The ghosts obeyed to her orders, and the house-elves were fiercely loyal. It was as though the entire world had decided to make this as easy as possible for her, and that was exactly Minerva's problem.

In her own heart, she felt that she ought not to be the esteemed Headmistress of Hogwarts. Not now, at least. Minerva had always assumed that she would one day apply for the post, after Albus's _retirement_. Not after his _murder_. The way everyone welcomed and supported as Headmistress only enhanced how much they all missed Albus Dumbledore.

It had been odd to remain in the Great Hall and watch the new Deputy Headmaster Filius Flitwick guide the first-years into the school. Minerva had felt out of place on the throne-like Headmaster Chair at the high table, sitting quietly while tiny Filius had sorted the first-years into their Houses. And giving the traditional welcoming speech had been hell.

Minerva did not recall what she had said during that speech. Everyone had told her how very tactful her speech had been, how she had dedicated her work to the memory of Albus and yet given them new hope, and had promised the students that they would be safe in Hogwarts, safer than anywhere else in Britain…

Minerva did not remember a single word she had said. All she recalled was thinking '_I should not be the one to hold this speech_' over and over again.

Now the new school-year was two weeks old already, and because it was a ridiculously beautiful autumn weekend and they needed something to keep their minds occupied, the teachers had voted to give the students an extra Hogsmeade Weekend. Minerva had readily agreed.

She had even accompanied Irma Pince on a stroll to the village, and had somewhat enjoyed the walk in the warm sunshine. Minerva had even smiled openly when she had spotted Hermione and Ron ahead of them, holding hands. She was glad that the two of them had finally gotten together; Merlin knew it had taken them long enough.

Now it was past ten o'clock in the evening and the students had returned to their Common Rooms, at least most of them. Minerva slowly walked back to her new office, taking a few detours to make one last round through the castle to round up the usual latecomers and send them off to their dormitories.

"Shh, be quiet! Oh, we'll be in so much trouble if anyone sees us..."

Minerva heard the whispered voice and hurried steps on the stairs, and suppressed another smile. The voice was Hermione's, and although the new Head Girl had loosened up considerably, apparently some things never changed.

"Just wait one more second," Ron replied, also whispering.

Minerva now saw them on the stairs and quickly stepped into an alcove behind a knight statue, trying to hide from the now-kissing young couple. She did not want to interrupt them, and knowing Hermione, the girl would certainly make sure that the two of them would soon return to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Ron and Hermione had in the meantime broken apart and smiled sheepishly, then they turned to hurry on towards the Gryffindor tower. Minerva retreated even further into the alcove to avoid being seen, and then her heart almost stopped.

She felt something warm and soft behind her, and before she could react, someone grabbed her from behind and a hand was clamped over her mouth. Minerva panicked at first, kicked against the statue in a futile effort to bring it down and create a commotion, and was rewarded by being lifted off her feet and dragged even deeper into the alcove. She forced herself to calm down and remember her Auror training years ago.

"Don't make a sound," Snape whispered into her ear. "It's only me."

Minerva stood still and relaxed to show that she had stopped reaching for the wand in her pocket. She nodded as much as was possible, trying to demonstrate that she had understood what he had said, and when she felt that Snape loosened his grip just a little bit she bit him hard in the hand and transformed into her cat shape.

The thing about catching cats is that they have, in a way, their own magic. Try holding on to a renitent feline some time – all of a sudden gentle paws turn into needle-sharp claws, and don't forget that cats are predators and have very pointy teeth.  
Snape did not let go right away, but when the woman in his arms became a scratching and hissing feline she could slip from his grasp. Minerva landed on soft paws, spun around and immediately transformed back. It took her only a split second to draw her wand and point it at Snape.

He stood in the alcove, camouflaged by a Disillusionment Charm, but still clearly visibly if you knew where to look. Minerva noticed with grim satisfaction that his right hand was bleeding.

"Don't ever do that again," she hissed.

"I had to make sure you would not cry out with surprise. Did you have to pick just this very spot to hide from that display of puppy love? You should have told them off, and sent them on their way, like any proper teacher would have done."

"Your wand," Minerva demanded coldly.

Snape nodded, and moved slowly while he handed her his wand. Minerva was surprised to notice that he had carried it in his pocket. Apparently he had indeed not intended to hurt her.

Carefully watching Snape out of the corner of her eye, Minerva shot a glace to the end of the corridor. Ron and Hermione stood in front of the Fat Lady, kissing again, and had obviously not noticed a thing.

"That was close," Snape commented, "How very fortunate that love makes even the ever-perceptive Miss Granger blind to her surroundings."

"There is no need for that disparaging tone of voice. Personally, I believe that these two have been through enough already and deserve some happiness."

"At the very least, they are in the corridors past curfew. That is, say, 20 points from Gryffindor."

"You don't actually believe that you can still take points here?"

"It was worth a try."

Minerva bit her lip, furious with herself. The problem with her relationship with Snape was that they had always enjoyed this banter way too much. She had immediately reverted to the tradition of friendly bickering just because this was the one and only thing that still reminded her of the old days.

Snape massaged his injured hand. He had apparently also realised the absurdity of their situation, because when he spoke next his voice was more serious.

"You have not sealed my Blood Gate," he stated quietly. "I admit that I was surprised to find it still working."

"If you do indeed intend to pass information on to us, then you need a way to contact me. I imagine it would not be safe to use owls or Patronus messages."

Snape nodded, and Minerva was glad that he accepted her explanation for now. It sounded lame to her. There had been furious discussions in the Order, and just about everyone had advised her to close that gate. Minerva herself preferred not to think about why she had not done so. Maybe it was nothing but the fact that as long as she could believe that there might be something to Snape's tale, there was hope.

Hermione and Ron had by now disappeared through the portrait hole, and they were alone in the corridor. Minerva lifted Snape's Disillusionment Spell.

"So what can you tell me?"

"The Dark Lord has a new spy in the Ministry, in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Her name is Mattingley – Weasley will know her, she came from Spain or Italy a few years ago and married an English wizard. Short, dark-haired, plump, sort of pretty... sadly she is not aware who she is working for, she actually believes that she is giving away information to a group who work _against_ the Dark Lord. It might be worth a try feeding her deliberately wrong information..."

Minerva let all the information sink in, concentrating hard. Snape spoke quickly now, as though he too had realised they had already wasted precious time. Minerva did not interrupt him. She would need to remember every detail of this conversation, not only of the contents but also every aspect of how Snape acted, his facial expressions, and his tone of voice.

Anything could be a clue as to whether to believe him at all. She was not to be deluded by the fact that she had once considered this man a friend, and that she had almost enjoyed their short trial of strength a few minutes ago. She would listen, and analyse, and then decide what to do next.

* * *

_A/N: Just a short chapter to get into the mood again... thank you so much for bearing with me during this long hiatus! This time I swear an Unbreakable Vow that there's more to come soon. Frank_


End file.
